CHAPTER X

THE TEACHING OF ELEMENTARY COMPOSITION

A wise musician has drawn attention to the fact that music has a more

important educational function than any foreign language, being a common

language for the expression of emotion, imaginative power, and rhythmic

feeling. He went on to say that, as a training, it is of use from the

very earliest years, and for all classes of the community.

If we agree with this view--and it is encouraging to note the increasing

number of those who do so--we must so organize the musical education of

children that a time comes when they will be ready to 'express

themselves' in music in the same way in which they can express

themselves in their native tongue.

An earlier chapter in this book has dealt with the teaching of

extemporizing, first, treated as vocal expression, then as instrumental.

When a class of children has arrived at the stage of being able to

extemporize a tune of sixteen bars, in any given key and time, and

introducing given modulations, it is quite ready to begin the more

formal study of composition, and to be initiated into the mysteries of

form. Hitherto the experiments of the class in this direction have been

chiefly spontaneous; the teacher has of set design left the child who is

extemporizing as free as possible, but the time has now come for a new

'window' to be opened in its mind.

A preliminary talk should be given on the need of form in music. It must

be pointed out that we cannot be intelligible without it, that it is not

enough to have a language at our command; we must have _shape_ in order

to convey our ideas to others. The child should realize that the great

artists in all the arts are under the same necessity as the youngest

beginner in composition. Inspiration must be embodied in a definite

form, or others cannot share the vision of beauty.

For a time the child now has to learn to select a musical form, then to

choose a musical thought which can be fitly expressed in it. It will

seem a cramping process after the freedom of extemporizing, but the

child who loves the work will willingly submit to the discipline. It

cannot be too often impressed on the young teacher that children as a

whole _like_ discipline. They despise those who are indifferent to it,

and give a ready submission to those who expect it, provided they feel

sure of an underlying sympathy.

The first lessons in form should consist of the analysis of simple

tunes, preferably of the Folk Song type. The forms known as AB, ABA, and

the variants derived from these will be explained, and the class will

write examples of each, at first not harmonizing the melodies, but

afterwards doing so. The old dance forms will then be taken. At this

stage it is absolutely necessary for those of the class who are musical,

and who wish to give a little extra time to music, to go through a

course of strict harmony and counterpoint; endless time will be wasted

if they do not do so. The work will be very much lightened because of

the foundation already laid, for, without knowing it, the children have

been doing a little free counterpoint for some time, when they added

vocal parts to a given melody, and their knowledge of practical harmony

will make it possible for them to take many a short cut in the formal

work.

The dance forms, together with very simple fugues and contrapuntal

studies, and a few 'free' exercises in songs and short pieces, will be

as far as the majority of children will get in the study of composition.

But there will always be a few in each class who will be eager and able

to go farther, and to begin the study of sonata form. For such children,

and certainly for all teachers of music, there can be no better

text-book than Hadow's _Sonata Form_, published in the Novello Primer

Series. This book is often described as 'more exciting than a novel'!

Somervell's Charts for Harmony and Counterpoint are also most valuable,

and will save the necessity of a text-book in these subjects--at any

rate for the beginner, who works under guidance.

There is one curious fact about all but the most musical children when

they begin to _write down_ tunes of their own composition. They make

mistakes which they have never made when _extemporizing_ the same type

of tune. This seems to arise from the fact that they suddenly feel

self-conscious--they have more time to think when writing than when

singing or playing, and are inclined to compose one bar at a time

instead of phrase by phrase. They will produce a tune of seven

bars--they will end on a weak beat--they will come to a full stop in the

middle of an eight-bar tune on the tonic chord, root at the top--the

last half of the tune will have nothing to do with the first half. We

could write a page of their possible mistakes!

The cure for these lapses is to insist on the tunes being sung before

being written. The old unconscious habit will then assert itself, and

the little tunes will fall into shape.

It is a useful lesson to get a class to criticize all original tunes

when played by the young composer. For one thing, the criticism of our

contemporaries often carries more weight than that of our elders; and

for another, the practice arouses the critical faculty, and teaches the

children to listen keenly, for they have not the written tune in front

of them.

After a little practice quite good criticisms will be given by children.

They will notice such points as a weak scheme of keys--undue repetition

of the chief melody--a clumsy modulation--a trite ending--an

over-laboured sequence--a tendency to borrow ideas from others, and so

on.

This training will be of the greatest possible value to them later on in

the concert-room. As a writer in _The Times_ once put it:

'The vague impressions which are all that many people carry away from

the concert-room would be replaced by definite experiences.

* * * * *

'Mental analysis is not, of course, the main object in listening to

music, but it is a most powerful aid to full appreciation. It is the

failure to perceive any definite relation between the parts and the

whole that baffles so many people, and sends them away from the

concert-room remarking that they cannot understand "classical" music.'

Music as a Language: Lectures to Music Students · 第 5 / 9 章